... he goes to the bartender and starts shouting.
I KNOW HE'S HERE. HE HAS TO BE. WHO'S THE GODFORSAKEN BASTARD THAT STOLE MY MONKEY?
The bartender, stunned, tried calming him down. But to no avail, the man cocked his gun and shot him point-blank in the forehead. People started screaming.
NOBODY'S LEAVING UNTIL I FIND THE BASTARD THAT STOLE MY MONKEY. He shot a few rounds into the ceiling and headed towards a table where a few drowsy men were finishing their drinks. He shoots one of them and bellows like an animal.
WHO STOLE MY MONKEY? TELL ME NOW OR MINE'LL BE THE LAST FACE YOU'LL EVER SEE IN THIS LIFE. After a few stutters from the gobsmacked guys at the table, he shot rounds into each one's chest and spread them around the table.
WHO STOLE MY MONKEY!
As if to avoid falling over himself, he jolted towards the gypsy band that froze in a dark corner of the bar after the first shot was fired. He stared with cold eyes into the face of the lead singer and asked him the same obsessive question.
DO YOU KNOW WHO STOLE MY MONKEY?
The lead gypsy looks at the Russian, then at his band, then at the Russian again and replies YES BOSS, OF COURSE!
The gypsy band starts playing and the lead starts voicing a high tempo tune:
OH TELL ME LORD WHO STOLE MY MONKEEEEEY...
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